The Greatest Thing
by Joanne Lupin
Summary: "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."   Moulin Rouge
1. Prologue

Why did it have to happen here? He should have expected this, but it still made him reel. One moment he was having a lovely morning with his friends and family, and the next that grey gaze was hitting him like a bullet. Memories came rushing back. Old wounds reopened. He'd thought he'd been able to move on, but he hadn't.

The others had noticed the man now, along with his wife and son, and he was forced to make small talk as his heart broke along old scars. Those steel eyes stared coldly. There was no warmth, no recognition, no acknowledgement that the two had shared any more than a silly schoolboy rivalry.

"How could you do this to me?" Harry wanted to scream. "I gave you everything, and you tossed me aside! You used me. You lied to me. You betrayed me. And now you don't even say 'hello' to me. I hate you, Draco Malfoy!"

Harry swallowed the bitter taste, liquid loathing creeping up his throat and coating his mouth, and turned back to his family. He was happy now- or, at least, that's what he told himself when heartache kept him up at night. He had a beautiful wife, three healthy children, and a good career. His two best friends kept close. He was legally a member of the family that had taken him in from the moment he met them. What more could he ask for? And yet…

Looking at Draco made him think about the way things were. There'd been excitement. There'd been romance. Most of all, there'd been love- or so Harry had thought. Hadn't Draco felt it? Hadn't Harry shown him?

How could it have all been a lie?

-oOo-

Draco pasted a cold, harsh look on his face. All these years, he'd readied himself for the day when he'd see Harry Potter again. But it had been in vain. One look at those broken emerald eyes and it was all he could do to keep from running up and explaining everything. He tossed some lame excuse at Astoria and ran off to a deserted corner of the platform. His breath came in hard gasps and tears stung his eyes.

He couldn't do this anymore. He was tired of living in a web of lies, tired of being trapped by terrible pride and unspoken threats. And now that they both had children at Hogwarts, he'd see Harry more and more. How could he relive this, year after year?

Draco knew the answer: he couldn't. After all this time, he still couldn't bear to see Harry in pain, even pain Draco had caused only to save him. Besides, what was holding him back now? Certainly he could take whatever abuse his father threw at him. Draco wasn't afraid anymore.

His resolve hardened, Draco returned to Astoria and Scorpius. It was easier, now, to act as if nothing was wrong. Maybe it was because he wasn't acting for Harry's sake anymore, but just for his wife and child, for whom he'd been acting for years.

_Don't worry, Harry, _Draco thought, smiling imperceptibly. _I'll come back soon. I'll tell you the whole story. And we'll be together again._


	2. Chapter 1

Harry bounced up and down in the middle of the street. It was, technically speaking, springtime, but a chill still bit the air, so he pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. He stood beside the statue of himself and his parents in Godric's Hollow, and he was waiting. He wondered if the person he was waiting on had ever even seen the statue. Nonetheless, the two had agreed that it was a good place to meet.

Harry was just about to check his watch for the fifty-sixth time when he heard the _crack! _of someone Apparating a few feet away. He turned and saw just the person he wanted to see…

"So, why'd you call me here, Potter?" Draco Malfoy spat. Harry coughed nervously.

"I- er… I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So you called me to Godric's Hollow. Where there are a bunch of wizards _and _Muggles just walking around."

"Follow me," Harry said, reaching out a hand tentatively. Draco hesitated, then took it. Harry led him up to his old house- the one his parents had died in. He opened the gate quietly, tugging Draco in after him. Only after they'd entered the house and settled in the kitchen did Harry speak.

"We'll be safe in now. Muggles don't know it's here, and I'm the only wizard who can enter, unless I invite someone. I have to be physically touching them, though. That's why I had to hold your hand."

"Ah…"

There was a long silence, during which Harry fiddled with his glasses and Draco stared at his hands. One of them in particular.

"Can we get this over with, Potter? I have things to do, you know."

Harry put his glasses on and began to speak. "Well… For a long time, now, I've been thinking about things, and I've realized that I need to tell you something. Something I should have said ages ago…"

"Spit it out, then!"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Draco… I'm in love with you… I've been for a while."

Draco sat straight up in his chair. This was not at all what he was expecting.

"That's… that's, er… that is… _wow_…" he stuttered. Harry backpedaled.

"I totally get if you don't feel the same way, but I just had to say it. I couldn't live with myself if I went my whole life knowing I hadn't said or done anything to show you."

Draco shook his head, as if to clear it. This wasn't happening. It was a dream. If he closed his eyes, he'd be back in his house, in his bed. He couldn't risk letting this go too far. He had to end it before he started believing it was real.

Before he got false hope.

"This can't be happening."

Harry's heart sank. He'd gone too far. He'd scared him off. He'd made himself look like an idiot. And for what? How could he have believed that the boy who'd taunted him relentlessly for seven years felt anything warmer than disgust? He sat down in a chair across the table from Draco.

"Fine. Just go, then. I'm sorry I wasted your time," Harry said in a flat monotone.

"No, it's not that… It's just… I'm in love with you, too."

He saw Harry's eyes grow wide, taking up most of his face, and the next thing Draco knew, he was engulfed in a black-haired, green-eyed embrace.

"Bloody Hell!" Draco muttered, squashed against Harry's chest. The latter took a step back, clearing his throat.

"Sorry. It's just… I never thought you'd actually… I mean, I never thought you felt… I mean, _wow_!"

"I know. It's understandable, though… We've been at each other's throats since first year. Who'd have guessed that we'd be-?"

"-perfect for each other?" Harry finished dreamily, grabbing Draco again and twirling him. Draco tried to manage a scowl, but his smile warped his face into something that resembled piece of cloth twisted around a fixed point.

"If you keep doing that, Potter, I'm out."

"Could you not call me 'Potter'? I'm Harry. Har-ry. And I'll call you… Dray."

"Oh, no. That is _not _happening," Draco protested.

"You don't like it?" Harry pouted melodramatically. "I came up with it in sixth year, and since then that's what I've been calling you in my head. I really don't think I'll be able to stop."

"You _will _stop. I am not going to be called 'Dray,'" Draco protested. His face, however, sang to a different tune…

Harry caught on. "You _liiiiikeee iiiiiiiiit_!" Harry sang, laughing. "You _love _it, don't you, Dray?"

"No, I don't. It's stupid. It's disrespectful to the proud name of-"

But Harry saw right through him. "No, you adore it. I'm calling you Dray forever now. Everywhere. At Honeydukes, on the Quidditch pitch, at your mum's for tea…"

Draco winced. "Er, Harry, about that… There's a reason I haven't told you my feelings before now…"

"Why is that, Oh Mysterious Malfoy?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Well, aside from the fact that my father was working to help the man who was trying to kill you," Draco shot back, "as I am the last one left to carry on the Malfoy legacy, I'll be having an arranged marriage to a pureblooded witch."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking. "We could keep it a secret! We can make it happen, Draco. I love you, and that's what counts."

Draco sighed. "Harry, you don't understand. The reason for the marriage is to _produce an heir_."

"So what?"

"So you'll get jealous. I don't think you'd be able to stand it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "What do you take me for, Dray? I can keep it together. I understand."

Draco shot a look at him when Harry used the dreaded nickname. "You may think so now, but when the time comes, you may not be so cool."

Harry took Draco's hand and looked him in the eyes, serious now. "Draco Malfoy. I love you. You love me. As long as I know those two things, I'll be fine. There's nothing more I could ask for."

Draco smiled. "If that's good enough for you, it'll be good enough for me."

Harry shook his head. "It's not good. It's the greatest."


	3. Chapter 2

Lucius scrutinized his son as Draco stood before him. The boy's expression was stony and faraway, as if he was really only there in spirit.

"Draco, you must be on your best behavior," Lucius instructed. "If you can please the Greengrasses today, you know what it will do for our family. You must be good. Think of your mother. Think of me. Do this for us."

"I will, father," Draco muttered robotically. His posture was straight, his hair neat, his clothes clean and pressed. Lucius deemed his son's appearance acceptable, but for this to work, he needed Draco to be more than just handsome. Draco needed to be charming. Enchanted. Engaged.

Today, Draco would meet Astoria Greengrass, his future wife- hopefully. Although the marriage had been arranged years in advance, there was still time for either party to back out. Lucius knew that the Greengrass parents were having second thoughts about giving their daughter to the fallen Malfoy family. If they thought poorly of Draco, all would be lost. The Malfoys needed this marriage to prove to the Wizarding community that they were only down, not out- and they needed the large sum of money the Greengrasses could pay. It was a strange position for both families to be in, as well as a dangerous one for the Malfoys, as the Greengrasses- the family paying the dowry- were in a position of power.

It was hard for Lucius to admit to weakness, but as he prepared for the Greengrasses' arrival, he had to face the truth: the fate of the House of Malfoy rested on the shoulders of his 18-year-old son.

Narcissa crept into the room, whispering, "They're here." Her eyes were wide and anxious, her hands shaking. Lucius nodded to her, and she bowed out. Then Lucius put his hands on his son's shoulders.

"We are all counting on you, Draco."

The boy nodded, not meeting his father's gaze. Lucius began to walk to the door, then paused as if he'd forgotten something. He turned around and tossed Draco a potato. Draco caught it easily, his brow furrowing. He looked from his father, to the potato, to his pants, and then, with a look of comprehension and mild disgust, back to Lucius. The man smiled wryly.

"You know what to do."

Astoria was a looker- no doubt about that- with a pedigree to back it up. Her parents boasted that, through the paternal line, their daughter's ancestry could be traced back to Merlin himself. She'd gotten excellent marks on her O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S., and had _not _taken Muggle Studies. She'd been a Prefect _and _Head Girl. It didn't exactly hurt, too, that her parents had a rather large, rather full vault at Gringotts. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and her equally-dark eyes were bright and friendly. She wore a modest outfit with a calf-length skirt and a pastel cardigan. From the moment she entered Malfoy Manor, was charming and cheerful. She greeted the adults with a polite curtsy. When she was introduced to Draco, she blushed and looked down, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and gave him a shy but eager smile. Draco kissed her hand, trying to give her a debonair wink, but his eyes were still to faraway. He was remembering Harry doing the same thing the night he'd officially out-cheesed himself- an astonishingly difficult feat, Draco was discovering.

Then the Malfoys ushered the Greengrasses into a sitting room, lighting a fire that didn't quite reach the coldness of the manor, and served tea with scones. Astoria sipped her tea quietly, after adding an acceptable amount of cream and sugar, and listened intently, occasionally glancing at Draco with that same shy smile, while the adults spoke.

For the good show Astoria was putting up on her end, Draco's performance was more than a little flat. He stared at the teacup in his lap, his eyes glazing over. Where Astoria would laugh lightly or "hmm" in the right places, Draco made little effort to even appear interested in the conversation.

Hoping his father wouldn't notice, Draco had forgone the potato. Besides, what would Astoria think if he'd used the potato once, but forgotten it the next time? Or used a different size potato? _God…_

Lucius elbowed Draco in the ribs, and the boy looked up to realize Astoria was speaking. To him.

"… a songbird."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said," Astoria repeated helpfully, "I'd love to learn how to become an Animagus. I'd want to turn into-"

"-a songbird," Draco repeated, nodding. "That's lovely."

Astoria continued the conversation. "What would you want to be?"

Draco went back to staring at his teacup, thinking. He smiled and remembered a random conversation he'd had with Harry last week, in which Harry had considered becoming an Animagus.

"Of course, I think I might want to be a stag, like my dad," Harry had said, sitting next to Draco on a couched in his parents' old, wrecked home, "but, I dunno, it might be cool to be, like, a lion or something. Something dangerous."

Draco had nodded as Harry grabbed another Red Vine and sucked on it absently, something Draco found adorable.

"Draco?"

That was Astoria. Draco shook himself.

"Uh, I don't know… Maybe…" he looked around and saw a stone serpent carved into the mantle, "…a snake."

Astoria smiled. "Cool," she said before turning to Narcissa to ask her a question. Lucius shot a scowl at Draco to let the latter know that his inattentiveness had not gone unnoticed. If this ended badly, there would be Hell to pay. Draco struggled to stay focused, but every time he looked at Astoria, he was filled with guilt. Harry had assured him that he understood, but that didn't stop Draco from being ashamed. He was trying to seduce a woman here when tonight he'd be sitting next to Harry and watching "She's All That" with their fingers intertwined. Despite his full disclosure, Draco couldn't escape the feeling that he was going behind Harry's back.

At long last, Lucius suggested that the men speak alone. Draco got up to lead Astoria from the room, then hovered in between the door and the other two men. Lucius nodded to Draco, and the boy fled to his room, glad to be able to drop the act he was trying to put on.

Lucius and Mr. Greengrass sat in silence for a few moments, as if they were sizing each other up. Lucius spoke first.

"I hate to bring up such ugly matters during what has been for us such a delightful visit, but I'm afraid we must discuss… _the dowry…_"

Mr. Greengrass nodded. "Yes, of course. Now, I know we've discussed some figures and plans before, but the tides seem to have changed since then."

"Yes, well," Lucius said uncomfortably, "don't think that our family has been completely… defeated…"

A strange look crossed Mr. Greengrass' face. His thin- almost skeletal- frame seemed to bend slightly toward Lucius, as a tree bends in the wind. His pale blue eyes softened, but at the same time, shone with a fierce determination. To the average person, the look was easily recognizable as that of a man who was willing to dance a thousand steps and more for his child. But for Lucius, whose closest experiences with fatherly warmth involved watching other families from afar, the expression signaled that fierce negotiations would follow. It looked to Lucius that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Lucius," the other man said, "could you ensure that, if Draco and Astoria were to marry, they would have a child?"

Lucius tipped his head. "Of course. They must produce an heir."

"Here, then, is what I will offer. Remember the amount we discussed at our last meeting?"

Lucius nodded, his eyes widening. That had been a _lot _of money.

Mr. Greengrass made his offer. "Upon the marriage of Draco and Astoria, I shall offer you… half of that amount…"

Lucius' heart sank slightly, but then Mr. Greengrass continued, "… and upon the birth of their first child, I will pay you the other half."

Lucius blinked. On the inside, he was dancing with glee, but on the outside, his expression stayed smooth. He asked, "May I speak with my wife for a moment?"

"Of course," Mr. Greengrass replied. Lucius walked quickly out of the room. "Narcissa!" he called. She joined Lucius after extricating herself from the group of girls, and the two made their way to the master bedroom. It was only then that Lucius broke into a wide, greedy grin. He recounted the meeting to Narcissa, the woman's eyes getting bigger and bigger with every word.

"We did it," she whispered.

"We did it," repeated Lucius.

A few moments later, Lucius came bursting into the sitting room where Mr. Greengrass sat, waiting. He stood up as Lucius entered.

"So? Will you accept?" Mr. Greengrass asked, playing with a hat that had previously covered his thinning, graying hair.

Lucius stepped forward and pulled out his wand. Mr. Greengrass flinched.

"My wife and I have decided to accept."

A smile broke across Mr. Greengrass' face. Lucius summoned a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes

"To Draco and Astoria!" he cheered as he filled the flutes and handed one to Mr. Greengrass, who chimed in, "And to the child they shall one day have!" The two men clinked their glasses and downed the champagne. Lucius poured more and asked, "Could you please tell me, though, why you added that… condition?"

"Astoria… She's a rather motherly girl, Lucius," Mr. Greengrass explained. "She really wants to start a family. Of course, we'd like it to be a _pureblooded _family. And your son, Draco… Well, you could say he caught Astoria's eye…" He winked.

Lucius laughed and nodded, downing another flutefull of champagne and reveling in his success.

_Yes, _he thought, _we did it._


End file.
